


Company

by poor_sickies



Series: Bad Things Happen [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Broken Bones, Comfort, Crutches, Gen, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 05:04:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16130213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poor_sickies/pseuds/poor_sickies
Summary: It's bad enough that he broke his leg. It's even worse that it was during the summer.Fortunately, Keith and Matt keep him sane.Prompt: crutches





	Company

It’s pretty late now, almost ten PM, and very much past Keith’s usual dinner time. That’s not the issue, though - he can cook by himself, and he doesn’t mind being alone.

But Shiro was supposed to be home six hours ago. And on top of that, Keith’s calls went straight to voicemail.   

They’ve been on summer break for three weeks now, and Shiro had invited Keith to stay on his apartment until the new school year. Shiro still has some occasional classes, so he needs to go to the Garrison grounds from time to time, but today, he had left on his bike in the morning to meet Matt, saying he’d be home by four, and hadn’t come back.

So Keith is pretty startled when he hears a car parking in front of the apartment. With a quick jump, he gets up from the sofa and peers into the window.

It’s Matt’s car.

Keith runs to the door and steps outside, feeling the light breeze of the summer hit his arms. The sun has already set, but he can still make out Shiro’s shape on the passenger seat.

Matt opens the car door on his side, immediately noticing Keith’s presence.

“Hey, Keith,” he greets with an apologetic tone, “sorry we didn’t call. I don’t have your number, and Shiro’s phone died.” 

Matt makes his way around the car, towards the trunk, while Keith notices Shiro opening his door, but making no move to get out.

That’s when he sees Matt carrying a pair of crutches and walking to Shiro. 

“ _What happened?!_ ”

Matt helps Shiro get up and lean on the crutches, and stays behind to close the car door. 

“Shiro…” Keith gasps, his eyes widening. There is a cast on Shiro’s leg, from toes to mid-thigh. He walks slowly, hesitantly and unbalanced, still not used to the crutches, and Keith rushes to the front door to open it. 

He thinks of going back, to help Shiro go through the three steps in front of the door, but Matt is right behind Shiro, ready to steady him up when he leans backwards way too much and is about to fall.

“Whoa, careful there. Just go slow, you’re not used to it yet,” Matt says gently, holding Shiro’s shoulders to help him stand upright.

Shiro grits his teeth and keeps going, looking slightly embarrassed for nearly falling on his ass. Keith winces. He’s never seen Shiro this miserable. He looks like a kicked puppy.

They finally make their way inside, and Matt helps Shiro lower himself into the sofa, quickly asking Keith for a couple of pillows.

“Shiro had a little motorcycle accident,” Matt explains, carefully taking Shiro’s leg to put the pillows under it. 

“What?!” Keith asks, dumbfounded, “How?!”

Keith is aware that Shiro does like to pull some stunts on the bike, but he knows what he’s doing, and he’s very, very careful. Hell, he doesn’t even let Keith try most of them! 

“Went against a rock, I was sent flying,” Shiro groans, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Un- _fucking_ -believable.”

Matt winces at Shiro’s tone. It’s already bad that he’s swearing, which he rarely does, but he sounds really frustrated. He has been quiet ever since they left the hospital, spending the small car trip looking down, hissing in pain whenever the car hit a bump on the highway (and how Matt cursed those irregular roads). 

And alright, he can admit this situation sucks. Shiro had been so happy this morning, talking about the camping trip in the desert he was going to surprise Keith with. But now… well, that might be off limits in the state he’s in.

“It was a pretty unlucky break, right below his knee, and a fractured kneecap,” Matt says, setting the crutches down next to the sofa, and taking a seat next to Keith, “he’s gonna need those crutches for a while.”

Keith stares at Shiro, with pity in his eyes. He looks down still, but he doesn’t look as furious as he sounded before. He just looks tired and in pain, gaze fixed on his cast. 

“Does it hurt, Shiro?” Keith asks softly, concern filling his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Shiro answers, and he’s probably blunter that he means to be, but doesn’t look like he’s exaggerating. “Wanna go to bed.”

“I can help,” Matt offers, getting up, “you wanna take a shower first?”

Shiro shakes his head. “Tomorrow.”

Keith doesn’t want to think about it. Showering with that cast will not be easy, especially with all the trouble it seems to be giving Shiro already. It seems heavy, and Shiro looks like he can barely stand on his own without leaning in some direction. 

“What about dinner?” Matt asks, before turning to Keith. “Have you eaten?”

“Yeah, there’s still some mac and cheese, I can go heat it up,” Keith suggests. Matt looks like he’s about to accept, but Shiro doesn’t let him.

“I don’t want to eat,” Shiro sighs, “I just wanna go to sleep.”

Keith’s heart breaks a little with Shiro’s voice. Now that he looks closely, his eyes are red, and he sounds like he’s about to cry if he hasn’t already. He thinks of giving him a hug, but he’s somehow afraid of jostling his leg and hurting him more.

Matt knows better than to insist when Shiro’s like this. “Alright man, let’s get you to your room,” he picks up the crutches again and helps Shiro up. 

Keith goes ahead to open the door to Shiro’s room and notices that Shiro looks the most frustrated when he actually needs help.

Well, it’s not like Keith can’t relate. 

It’s Matt who helps Shiro into his pajamas, and Keith who tucks the blankets around him and stacks a pillow under his broken leg. Shiro has to lay on his back, to keep his leg elevated, but he still turns his head to the side, slightly burying it in the pillow. 

“Hey, dude,” Matt calls out, “you need anything else?”

“Not really.” Shiro waits a moment before answering. “Thanks Matt.”

“No problem, man. Feel better. I’ll come by tomorrow.”

As he leaves the room, Keith sees Shiro pulling the blanket over his head. It sends alarm bells ringing in his head.

Shiro is  _really_  upset.

Matt seems to notice as well, because he places a comforting hand on Keith’s shoulder when he’s by the front door about to leave.

“Hey, don’t worry too much,” he says, “he’s sad and tired, but tomorrow he’ll feel better. Being in pain probably doesn’t help either… he’ll be fine though.”

Keith nods. Matt isn’t only one of Shiro’s best friends, but also a pretty smart guy. If he can trust anyone, it’s Matt. “Thanks.”

Matt leaves, after promising to stop by tomorrow to bring some games.

Keith only stays awake for a couple more hours, watching TV, before going to bed. After brushing his teeth, he stops by Shiro’s bedroom door and peers inside. Shiro is still in the same position he was before, and by his regular, soft breathing, he appears to be asleep. Good. He needs it.

But when Keith gets up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, he hears noise from Shiro’s bedroom. He walks closer, rubbing his eyes, still half asleep. Then, he hears a frustrated groan, and rustling sheets.

Shiro is awake.

How long has he been up for? And more importantly, why is he not asleep? Keith suddenly feels much more awake, and lifts his hand to knock lightly on the door.

“Keith?”

He goes inside, opening his eyes more to get adjusted to the darkness, and moves closer to Shiro’s bed. 

“You’re awake,” he says softly. 

“I am,” Shiro deadpans, reaching out to turn on the nightlight. His leg is still on the same position, on top of the pillows, but his torso is twisted to the side, one arm under the pillow. 

Keith takes a seat on the edge of the bed and glances at Shiro’s cast. “Leg isn’t letting you sleep?”

Shiro closes his eyes. “I already took painkillers. Don’t seem to be working.”

Keith hisses in sympathy. He’s had his experience with broken bones, more even than his dad (and even Shiro) were happy about, and he knows how bad the pain can get in the first couple of days, especially without proper pain relief.

“Is there anything I can do? Food? Water? I can get-”

“Just go to bed, Keith,” Shiro sighs, and Keith doesn’t miss the way his eyebrows crease when a particularly bad wave of pain hits him as he shifts again. “I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want you to be alone like this,” Keith insists, as he gets up and goes around to the other side of the bed, sitting with his head against the headboard and his legs next to Shiro’s. “It’s not like I have to be up early tomorrow either.”

Shiro lifts his eyes, curiously, to look at Keith’s. “But I’m just laying here…”

“Well, so am I,” Keith says back with a soft chuckle, “I’ll keep you company.”

Shiro doesn’t say anything, but clumsily reaches with his right arm for a drawer under his bed, takes out a pillow and hands it to Keith.

Keith smiles, and places the pillow behind his back. At least Shiro’s accepting his company. That’s not bad. Now he just has to distract him from the pain. He thinks about going back to his room to pick up his guitar and strum something… but then he has a better idea.

“You want me to read to you?”

Shiro snorts. “Read?”

Keith looks at Shiro’s bedside table and picks up the grey book with hard cover. “ _Plato’s Republic,”_ he reads out loud, and stares at it for a little to consider. “Didn’t know you were keeping up with philosophy,” he chuckles. 

“Nothing wrong with studying the Greek masters,” Shiro mumbles, “maybe it would do you some good.”

Keith shrugs, and opens the book where Shiro bookmarked it. “Great, I can do it now.” He stops a little, clearing his throat, and moves the book closer to his eyes. “…the pilot likewise, in the strict sense of the term, is a ruler of sailors and not a mere sailor?…”

Keith continues, eyes fixated on the words that he does not give much though into, only enough to read them aloud. He feels Shiro shift beside him, leaning closer, listening.

It’s five in the morning when Keith feels his mouth going dry, and notices Shiro’s soft snoring. Without much thought, he places the book aside and slides down, covering himself with the blanket to get some more hours of sleep. 

*

When he wakes, the sun is already up, and apparently so is Shiro.

Wait.

Shiro?

Keith sits up, and listens carefully. He can definitely hear some mismatched clicking sound coming from the bathroom, which he recognizes as Shiro’s crutches.

Then he hears a pained grunt.

“Shiro?” He calls out as he gets up, throwing the blankets back, and walks to the bathroom. The door is closed. “Shiro, are you okay?”

“Yes,” Shiro groans from the other side, short and rushed like he’s running out of breath. “I’m fine.”

Keith hears the crutches settling against a wall, and the noise stops. Until he listens to water hitting the sink.

“What are you doing?”

He’s pretty sure Shiro means to say “trying to brush my teeth”, but it comes out a garbled mess that he only makes out after a few seconds.

Keith considers going inside. He knows Shiro probably shouldn’t be up, standing alone in a closed bathroom without anyone to help. But he also knows he would hate Shiro barging in to help if it was him in this situation. So he doesn’t.

“I’ll make breakfast then,” he says, close to the door so that Shiro can hear. But then Keith hears him spit into the sink.

“It’s done, there’s bacon and eggs on the table. Just leave some for me!”

“ _What_!?”

“Eggs,” Shiro repeats, as he slowly limps out of the bathroom, “leave some for me. I haven’t eaten yet.”

“You shouldn’t even be up! And you just made breakfast?!” Keith exclaims, waving his arms in the air.

“It wasn’t _that_ hard,” Shiro groans, flopping into bed carefully with his leg stretched in front of him. He opens his drawer to take out a pair of sweatpants large enough to fit around the cast. 

“You still shouldn’t be standing in front of a stove for twenty minutes when you broke your leg yesterday-” Keith stops himself, and sighs. “I’m just thinking that if it were me, you probably wouldn’t even let me be up.”

Shiro snorts, after pulling the pants over his good leg, “and you’d be complaining to me that you were fine and didn’t need help.”

“Like you are now?” Keith crosses his arms and raises one eyebrow. “Come on, I’m just trying to look out for you. Admit it, you gotta be in pain, and there’s no need for you to be doing stuff around the house, when I can do it, and you can just lay down and let your leg heal.”

Shiro lets go of his sweatpants and lets himself slump forward.

“This sucks,” he mutters under his breath. Then, he looks up at Keith with a face that is quite literally the dictionary definition of sad. “I’m gonna be like this all summer…”

Keith shrugs sympathetically. He remembers his finals week, just two months before, of Shiro motivating him through another late night of study. “This summer, we’ll go out every week to ride in the desert,” he said, with the biggest smile on his face, “you’re gonna be a pro by next year.” Keith knows how excited Shiro was for their summer together, but now, most of their previous plans are simply undoable. 

“We… can still do some things…” 

Shiro chuckles humorlessly. “Yeah, like what? Laying around all day?”

Keith considers. He was never a fan of “laying around” and doing nothing all day. But there are a lot of activities he enjoys that don’t require walking or standing. 

“I’ll think about it,” he says with a sly smile, “and let you know after breakfast.”

*

“So… videogames…?”

Keith nods from where he’s kneeling on the floor, setting up the PlayStation Matt brought. “Yep. You don’t even have to be sitting for it.”

Shiro rolls his eyes. He’s leaning back on a pillow, leg stretched in front of him. And from the look on his face, he does not appreciate Keith suggesting he plays laying down. 

“Besides, Mario Kart always cheers you up. And you two haven’t even gone through all the scenarios,” Matt yells from the kitchen.

Keith moves away from the TV, the PlayStation finally set up, and sits cross legged on a pillow, leaning against the couch Shiro is laying on. Matt comes from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and sets it down in the coffee table, before crouching to plug his own controller into the PlayStation, ready to start playing.

They play for a few hours, and Shiro does seem a bit more relaxed for a while. But when the levels are almost complete, and the popcorn is all but gone, thanks to Matt, Shiro starts getting quiet. He has leaned back again, and he’s more laying than sitting at this point. 

His leg hurts. Well, it does since yesterday, when he went flying from his bike and crashed ungracefully against the hard rock formation, but it’s worse now than when he woke up this morning. His stomach feels unsettled, and he’s not sure at this point if it’s from the pain or the meds, but he definitely doesn’t want to look at the TV any longer. 

He sets his controller down in his lap, and closes his eyes. “I think I’ll pass the next round,” he says quietly. Keith turns around quickly to look at him, and Matt clicks quickly on his start button for the game to go back to the main menu. 

“What’s wrong?” Keith asks, “is it your leg?

Shiro nods. If his eyes were open, he would see Keith and Matt exchanging worried glances, before springing back into action. 

Matt approaches him gently. “Are you comfortable? Do you wanna get back to bed?” 

Shiro opens his eyes slowly. Keith is already dismantling the mess of cables around their TV, and Matt is hunched over, looking him in the eyes with a genuinely concerned look. 

“You guys can keep playing, I just said I didn’t feel like it anymore,” Shiro snaps, probably a little rougher than he intended. He hates to be ruining the fun for everyone just because his leg hurting. He doesn’t mind being alone for a little.

“It’s okay,” Matt shrugs, a kind smile playing on his lips, “we can play another time. It’s alright if you wanna take a nap or something.”

To his own annoyance, Shiro ends up being helped by Matt and Keith back to bed,  _again_. He doesn’t tell them how bad his leg hurts, especially standing, as he feels his joints swell inside the cast, throbbing with an ache that hasn’t left since yesterday. He doesn’t tell them, but he doesn’t need to either. As soon as he’s laying down, with Keith moving around him, nestling him up with pillows and blankets, Matt has already gone and come back from the kitchen with painkillers and a glass of water. 

“Thanks,” he says, as he accepts the glass and the pill. The bed is more comfortable than the couch at least, and if not for the feeling of helplessness growing in his chest, Shiro would relax a little. 

*

The painkillers leave him groggy for the rest of the day. Matt stays until dinner time, and that’s when Shiro wakes up again. 

Keith suggests a shower, and honestly, Shiro can’t blame him. He hasn’t taken one since yesterday morning before the crash, and its hot. He’s sweating everywhere, and a nice warm bath would definitely help loosening up his sore muscles.

But Shiro knows he can’t possibly go on the bathtub on his own, not with his leg like that. So he resigns and lets Keith help.

They manage to find a plastic bag big enough to fit all around the cast, and Keith puts a small plastic bench on the tub. Shiro wears one pair of his old boxers, and a flip flop on the foot that isn’t encased in the cast, to avoid slippering. Leaning on Keith, he manages to get in and sit on the bench with his leg stretched forward, on top of the edge of the tub. Keith takes his t-shirt off and goes in too.

Shiro takes the shower head, and runs it through his skin. The water pressure is very weak, but for once, he’s glad for it. The hot water feels soothing and relaxing on his skin, and he does feel a lot fresher after washing his body.

“You want me to get to your hair?” Keith looks down at him, wet bangs plastered to his face. Apparently, he had decided to shower too. That wasn’t surprising for Shiro, with this heat, and especially with Keith’s long hair, he tended to suffer a bit when it was this hot. 

Shiro considers his offer. It’s not something he can’t do by himself, but the bench is small, and with his leg sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his balance is a little off. His back kind of hurts too. So he accepts.

“Thanks, Keith.”

He tilts his head back and lets Keith shampoo it. His fingers are gentle, massaging the back of his head, until they get to the longer part in the front. Shiro lets himself close his eyes and relax. Despite it all, it’s not unpleasant to be cared for like this. It almost feels like not enough when Keith turs off the water and towels his hair. 

“Let’s go?”

Exiting the bathtub is a little trickier. Shiro stands on one foot, hands against the walls, while Keith takes the bench out. Taking Keith’s hand, he swings his good leg out, and Keith guides the other one, before giving him his crutches. 

They get dressed in Shiro’s bedroom, hair still wet. The sun still hasn’t set, and the warm light invades the room. It feels peaceful. Laying on the bed, wearing his softest cotton t-shirt, Shiro feels like he could fall asleep again like that. 

“Okay, you really have to eat something now,” Keith says, sitting on the bed as he puts his wet hair on a ponytail. “You barely even picked at lunch, and didn’t touch the popcorn when we were gaming.”

“I’m not hungry. I’m actually kind of tired,” Shiro sighs, closing his eyes. 

“Just some toast,” Keith insists, “I’ll even bring it here. Then you can sleep.”

“Alright,” Shiro nods, “but make it quick, or else I’ll be sleeping.”

*

He rests better that night, only waking up once or twice, to kick the blankets away when the heat got too much. 

This time, Keith doesn’t let him cook breakfast, and sure enough, at eight thirty in the morning, he’s going in his room with a plate of toast and a mug of coffee. 

“This is pretty nice,” Shiro comments as he rubs his eyes, still sticky and sore from sleep, “but we could have eaten in the kitchen.”

“No need for you to be putting weight on your leg,” Keith shakes his head, sitting next to Shiro with his own plate. 

Shiro sits up, back against the headboard, and stretches his arms above his head. Despite his little use of the crutches (that was still too much for Keith), his hands are starting to get red and blistered. It can be from how much weight he puts in them, to balance himself with the added weight of the cast. Either way, it’s not pleasant when he has to grab the fork and plate. He makes a mental note to get some cream for it later. 

“Those look painful,” Keith comments, with a nod towards his hands, between bites of toast.

“I think it’s normal if you’re on crutches.”

“I think it’s normal if you’re on crutches  _too much_ ,” Keith corrects him, “you should be resting more instead of trying to take care of the house when you obviously can’t.”

“Alright, alright,” Shiro gives in, “I’ll spend the day in bed today, does that make you happy?”

Keith frowns, swallowing another piece of toast. “How will you go to the bathroom?”

Shiro rolls his eyes. “Except when I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Sounds good to me.”

*

For the best part of the morning, Shiro asks Keith to bring his laptop, and responds to his emails, even managing to get started on some of his work for the next semester. Keith wants to keep him company, so he takes his guitar and strums a quiet melody, lying in bed next to him.

And it isn’t so bad for Shiro. His hands, slathered in cream, don’t hurt as much now. He’s giving his broken leg the rest it needs, and the little song Keith is playing has a relaxing tune to it.

But his restlessness comes back after lunch.

“Why don’t you read a little?” Keith suggests, nodding towards the philosophy books on Shiro’s night stand.

Shiro responds by wrinkling his nose. “Don’t feel like it, “ he pouts. “I wanna go for a run.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Keith says, putting down his guitar.

Shiro groans. “I know I can’t… but I’m so bored.”

Damnit.

Keith stays still for a minute, considering his options. Matt had left the games in the living room, for them to play if they wanted. But that would require helping Shiro to the living room, and if he can avoid getting him out of bed, he will. Besides, Shiro doesn’t seem to be in a very good mood for games. They could watch a movie on Shiro’s laptop, but it’s charging now, and the cable isn’t big enough to reach the bed.

Then Keith has a different idea.

“I’ll be right back,” he shoots up from bed, and out the door, leaving Shiro with a confused look on his face.

Keith comes back almost two minutes later, and drops a handful of pencils and a notebook on Shiro’s bed.

“So we’re playing hangman…?”

“No,” Keith says, picking up one of the pencils and his own notebook, and settling down on the bed beside Shiro. “We’re drawing.” 

Shiro frowns, as Keith shoves the notebook into his hands. “Keith, I suck at drawing.”

It’s true. Shiro doesn’t hate drawing, it’s just not something he does usually. While he passed all of his classes with flying colors, his art teachers back in middle school took pity on him and passed him with a C for effort.

“I know,” Keith replies, without taking his hands off his notebook, going through the pages, “but it’s relaxing. You could try it. And,” he adds, “it doesn’t require you to move much. Besides, it doesn’t put much strain on your palms, just your fingers. So it’s good.”

Shiro looks at the pencil and at the empty page, considering. It’s not like he has anything else to do. “What do I draw?” He asks, looking up at Keith.

Keith shrugs in response. “Start with something simple,” he suggests, looking around the room. “Maybe that stack of books over there? It’s simple enough.”

“It’s gonna come out terrible,” Shiro groans, but starts sketching nonetheless.

He observes the books in front of him, stacked in the dresser. Starting up with some lines, he looks back and forth between the paper and the books, and tries to pay attention to the directions.

Shiro is…definitely not an artist. The proportions come out messed up, and the lines are too mulled over. But he has to admit – it is relaxing. It gives him something to focus on, even if the result is not good.

Keith is turned slightly away from his, looking at the two cacti on the window. His sketch is turning out really well, but that’s not something Shiro doesn’t expect. It’s one of Keith’s hobbies, when he doesn’t have much homework. He never does anything too detailed, but he’s pretty good at getting the general lines and proportions and making it all look…nice.

“It’s looking good,” he says softly, leaning forward to see it better.

Keith smiles. “How’s yours coming up?”

Shiro shrugs and shows Keith the page.

“That’s…” Keith trails off, looking for words, tilting his head sideways as he looks at his drawing. “…not too bad…?”

Shiro chuckles. “You don’t need to lie, I know it’s bad.”

Keith shakes his head, putting down his pencil in front of him on the bed. “It’s a matter of practice,” he explains, taking Shiro’s notebook in his hands, and running his finger above the jagged lines. “You started well here, but the proportion is wrong as you go down. And the line could be cleaner.”

Shiro raises his eyebrow, amused. It’s funny listening to Keith explaining things in such a detailed and technical way. “You had classes about this or something?”

Keith shakes his head. “Only art class in school. But I liked it.”

“Well, you’re really talented.”

“Not talent,” Keith insists, picking up the pencil again, “practice.”

“That sounds like something I would say,” Shiro laughs, tuning the page on his notebook.

“Well, maybe I’ve been spending way too much time with you.”

*

Matt eventually slips up about the camping trip.

It was a matter of time, really. It’s not like Matt is terrible at keeping secrets, but Shiro had spent so much time talking to him about it, making sure to pick the best spots to sleep at, looking up online for tents, and simply telling him about how much fun he and Keith were going to have. 

But it’s been two weeks now since Shiro broke his leg, and any plans he had been making for the camping trip seemed to be forgotten. Truth is, if he wanted to surprise Keith, like he had been planning, it was terribly out of question. He couldn’t even drive. Matt would offer to do so, if he wasn’t going to board a plane to Geneva tomorrow, for a family vacation in Italy. 

He visits Shiro when he can, and tries to talk to Keith every day. It’s not like he doesn’t trust Shiro to tell him if he’s alright, but he knows how Shiro is - besides, Keith seems to appreciate the extra help.

“ _He’s been alright. A bit bored, but I think that’s normal_ ,” Keith says over the phone. 

“Taking his afternoon nap?” Matt chuckles fondly.

“ _It’s hot_ ,” Keith shrugs, even though Matt can’t see it, “ _I’d sleep if I could_.”

“Ah, dude, it really sucks what happened to him. He was so excited for this summer,” Matt sighs sadly.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Keith agrees, “ _we were gonna go out to the desert with our bikes. He was gonna show me how to get through that one spot with the cliff_.”

“Yeah, and that went to hell, like the camping trip.”

Silence.

Matt immediately realizes his slip up.

“ _What camping trip…?_ ”

Well, it’s not like he can take it back now. He only hopes Shiro doesn’t get too angry. “Uhh, I wasn’t supposed to tell you this,” he explains, “but Shiro had been planning to camp out in the desert this summer, for a few days. With you.”

“… _really?”_

“Yeah,” Matt says, “it’s one of the reasons why he was so upset when he got hurt. He had been planning it since spring break. I even have the tent at my house. He wanted to surprise you.”

Keith stays silent for a little. When he speaks up again, Matt recognizes right away the usual tone he uses when he’s about to be mischievous.

“ _Hey, Matt… is it okay if I come by to pick it up?”_

*

The tent is much bigger and comfortable than Keith imagined at first.

He used to go camping with his father, and on the rare occasions they slept on a tent, and not under the stars, it had been small with thin walls, letting any breeze or humidity from outside get in. 

This one, however, is much bigger. He’s pretty sure that at least three people fit comfortably. And the walls are thicker and isolating. The blue tent is set up on the Holts’ backyard. Keith had taken the car while Shiro slept, leaving a note to say he had gone to get groceries. Matt’s parents were busy packing, but had let him in kindly, offering snacks and everything, until Matt dragged him to the garden. 

“It was on the basement, I just brought it here so you could see it. Shiro really went all out with this one,” Matt smiles sadly, “I mean, he had been looking for a new tent before, and he wanted a good one. But I only saw him looking for bigger ones when he was planning this trip.”

“Is it okay if I take it?”

Matt nods, still staring at the tent. “Of course. It’s Shiro’s.” Then, he turns to Keith, his expression looking a bit worried. “You sure you can handle this? I’d love to help, but I’ll be a few thousands of miles away.”

Keith nods, certain. “I used to camp with my dad. I have lots of experience.”

Matt chuckles. “Alright. Let’s pack this baby up, then.”

Packed, the tent is about the size of an umbrella. Keith closes it in the trunk and drives away, after saying goodbye to the Holts and wishing them a good vacation. 

He’s got a camping trip to plan.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at @poor-sickies!


End file.
